


Mirror Mirror

by silentdescant



Series: Snapshots [13]
Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Asphyxiation, Breathplay, Choking, Dom/sub, Forced Eye Contact, M/M, Masturbation, Mirrors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-20 14:28:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8252459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentdescant/pseuds/silentdescant
Summary: Mitch strokes himself slowly, keeping his hand tight enough to be painful. It’s what Scott wants. He blinks a few times, sucking in air through clenched teeth, and catches Scott’s smile in the mirror.





	

**Author's Note:**

> KINKtober Day 9: Asphyxiation

The mirror is only three feet away, and perched on the edge of his bed with Scott at his back, Mitch stares into the shadowy blue of Scott’s eyes. Scott rests his chin on Mitch’s shoulder for a moment, peering right back at him, and Mitch almost expects him to pull out his phone and take photo, except for the fact that they’re both naked and Scott would never.

Scott’s arms are around Mitch’s waist, loosely holding him and keeping him from sliding off the bed. He slides one hand down, wedges it between Mitch’s thighs, nudging them apart.

Wordlessly, Mitch opens his legs until they’re parallel with Scott’s, spread wide and exposing everything. Scott’s gaze doesn’t drop, though; he continues holding Mitch’s gaze as he manipulates Mitch into position.

He takes one of Mitch’s hands from where it rests on the top of his thigh, laces their fingers together, and guides it purposefully to Mitch’s cock. He wraps Mitch’s fingers around the shaft, closes them tightly, almost too tightly, squeezing until Mitch gasps, and sets him in motion. He doesn’t have to say to continue; the command is implied when Scott moves his hand away.

Mitch strokes himself slowly, keeping his hand tight enough to be painful. It’s what Scott wants. He blinks a few times, sucking in air through clenched teeth, and catches Scott’s smile in the mirror.

“Don’t look away,” Scott murmurs, turning his face just slightly so his stubble scratches against the curve of Mitch’s ear. Mitch’s shoulder jumps up at the gentle tickle, but Scott digs his chin in, holding Mitch in place. He fixes Mitch with a pointed stare and adds, “Don’t stop touching yourself, either.”

The warning is clear. It doesn’t matter what the punishment might be; the fact that Scott is demanding this of him is enough to keep Mitch in check. He dips his head in a subtle nod and waits, keeps his hand moving, squeezing. Breathes. Waits.

Scott’s hands slide up Mitch’s chest. Slowly. He fits one at the base of Mitch’s neck, fingers stretched to one side and thumb stretched to the other. He feels so big, his hand breadth spanning Mitch’s whole throat like this. Mitch feels his pulse jump, thudding against Scott’s palm.

Scott’s other hand keeps moving up, hooking beneath his chin and tilting his head back, back, back. Mitch holds Scott’s gaze, his eyes half-lidded. He can see how much Scott is stretching him up. Scott’s grip on him feels so firm; he’s trapped like this. Trapped by Scott’s hands. His heart races.

“Don’t stop,” Scott says again.

Mitch squeezes his cock hard enough to make himself gasp. Scott chooses that moment to squeeze as well, tightening the hand around the base of Mitch’s neck. His fingers press into Mitch’s pulse points. He hears his blood pounding. He gags, chokes on a breath he can’t suck in.

Scott eases up. Lets him cough.

“Don’t. Stop,” he says. His voice is low and carries a threat, spurring Mitch into action in a renewed frenzy.

His hands shake when Scott squeezes his throat again. Mitch is ready for it this time and doesn’t gag, but he tries to swallow automatically and just ends up making a disgusting gurgling sound.

“Yes,” Scott whispers. “That’s it.”

Mitch shuts his eyes.

“No, look at me,” Scott snaps. “Let me see those pretty doe eyes.”

It takes a few blinks for Mitch to hold them open. His eyelids are closed to a sliver, just wide enough to meet Scott’s gaze in the mirror. If Scott would just let him down, let him lower his face—he finds himself struggling against Scott’s hold, squirming in his grasp trying to look down.

His mind doesn’t feel panicky and frantic, but his body is rebelling. His left hand around his cock is clenched painfully tight; his right hand is balled into a fist resting on Scott’s thigh.

“I want you to come like this,” Scott tells him. His voice coats Mitch like oil, seeping into his skin, consuming him. “When I tell you. When you can’t breathe anymore. When I control your most basic bodily functions. You’re going to come. Because I said so.”

His words shoot through Mitch’s body like Scott has direct control over his cock. Mitch is surprised by how close he is to coming already, especially considering his grip on his cock is painful rather than strictly pleasurable. Scott allows him one more deep breath before tightening his hands again, and this time he massages Mitch’s pulse points with his fingers, cutting off blood flow in a fluid movement.

The lightheadedness starts to kick in and Mitch strokes himself desperately, determined to follow Scott’s instructions. His eyes slip closed.

“Look at me,” Scott growls. “Are you close?”

Mitch’s eyelids flutter. “I—Ye—” He doesn’t have the breath to finish even a word.

Scott presses harder. It’s terrifying. Thrilling. Mitch can’t draw in a breath. His vision blurs and he closes his eyes. He can’t help it. Blood roars in his ears, drowning out everything else. He feels like he’s dying.

Then Scott releases and Mitch pitches forward, dizzy and off-balance. “Come for me,” Scott says, sliding his hands back down to Mitch’s chest to keep him upright. Oxygen surges back to Mitch’s brain and leaves him even more lightheaded than before, and he’s too disoriented to even realize he’s coming until he feels the wet drips pouring over his fingers.

“That’s it, baby, that’s it, yes,” Scott murmurs. He’s petting Mitch now, soothing him. Calming his racing heart as Mitch heaves in deep breaths, trying to regain his equilibrium.

Finally, his body settles. He leans back against Scott’s chest, his head lolling to the side. He feels bruised. Worn. Sore. But Scott’s smiling at him, proud. Grateful. He ducks down and kisses the side of Mitch’s neck, his lips touching one of the red splotches staining his skin. Scott feels warm and Mitch feels warmer, bleeding heat and energy into each other.

“So good for me,” Scott says. “So obedient. So perfect, Mitchy. Always so perfect.”

 

 _fin_.


End file.
